


Will You Join Me?

by Indiprincess



Series: And Barba Makes Three [3]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Budding Love, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Humor, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:48:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6953542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indiprincess/pseuds/Indiprincess





	Will You Join Me?

You peek into Rafael's office and tap lightly on his door jam.

"Mr. Barba," You swallow and raise a hand in greeting. "Hi. I'm here to go over my testimony for court tomorrow."

Rafael cocks his head at your formal greeting, and gestures you into his office. He rises and moves to the table with his laptop, pulling out your chair for you to have a seat. "Are we back to Mr. Barba?" He studies your face.

All the composure and formality you had been determined to show drops, and you shrug. "I don't know Mr. Barba, are we?" You flinch waiting for his reply, which of course, you don't wait long enough to let him speak. "I'm sorry about Saturday. So sorry." You go for your purse and pull out your checkbook. "I'd like to pay for the cost of cleaning your suit." You pause at this part, knowing quite well how much his clothing must cost. "Or pay for your suit, if it was ruined." Just the thought of that has your nerves in knots, as you figured his suit might cost more than your rent.

A smile comes to his face. "Is that what this _Mr. Barba_ business is about? About Saturday? You don't have to pay for my suit, it was an accident."

"I know, I just... we just... feel terrible." You click your pen and set it to a check. "I wouldn't feel right if I didn't pay for it. Saturday was my fault."

Oh last Saturday... it had started out so promising, with Rafael agreeing to stay for dinner, your daughter climbing the couch between the two of you with her coloring books and you three watching Frozen and enjoying the pizza, listening to your little daughter chatter away and tell Rafael all about the movie, and what was going to happen in every scene. He sat and listened to her and humored her with more patience than you would have ever given him credit for. Your gratitude to him was immeasurable for making your daughter's day that much brighter after she had been so upset by your ex cancelling their plans for the daddy daughter dance.

Glancing at Rafael out of the corner of your eye, you felt your heart warm by his interactions with your daughter, the wide eyed listening, the nodding, even asking her a question or two. He must be be so busy and so tired yet here he was, taking time to entertain her, only flinching slightly as she belted out every song at the top of her squeaky lungs to him.

Everything had been going so well. Then your little one began bouncing and hopping, remembering the milkshakes you had promised her. You insisted Rafael didn't need to help, he could just sit on the couch and relax. You figured he could use the breather from your daughter's gamma ray focus on him, and your little one insisted that she decorate the milkshakes, like she always does. By the time she was done the cups were a masterpiece of caramel, strawberry, and chocolate syrup, whip cream, sprinkles, marshmallows and cherries on top... and your counter was a disaster. With your back turned to the counter rising out a rag in the sink to clean up, you hadn't heard her taking one of the cups that you had told her you would carry together. When she got to Rafael, the chill of the dessert was too much for her little hands and she let go of his glass before he could get a hold of it, and proceeded to dump the entire thing into his lap.

You certainly heard his shout over the running water in your kitchen, followed immediately by your daughter's cry. You couldn't blame Rafael for shouting, as a freezing drink dumped in your warm lap could not be pleasant, and your daughter both immediately scared and sorry, began to wail. You ran into the living room, wet washcloth in hand, and thanked God that you stopped yourself just inches before dabbing at Rafael Barba's pants. You scooped up your daughter and took her to her bedroom to calm down and take some deep breaths, telling her you knew it was an accident, that everything was fine, that Mr. Barba was fine, but that's why it's important to listen to you and ask for help. By the time you had gotten back out to the living room, your heart sank to find Rafael gone. You chewed your thumbnail for a moment, puzzling if you should go try and catch him, or should you call him? But you didn't have his number, and as the seconds grew, so did your doubts, so you decided to do nothing and headed to the kitchen to find some cleaner for your sofa and carpet.

He waves away the offer with a kind smile, and his words bringing you back to his office from the memory of Saturday night. "Please. Don't be silly. It was an accident. I won't accept your money."

You take a deep breath and screw up your courage. "Mr. Barba, it would have been nice if you had said goodbye, or called or _something_."

He raises his eyebrows and studies you for a moment before responding. "Yes, I suppose it would have, but a freezing wet lap really puts a damper on one's mood." He teases you with an easy smile. "And I didn't have your phone number." He moves next to you to show you his phone. "I texted Liv for your work number, see? But I knew you were coming by today to go over your testimony, and I thought I might rather prefer talking to you in person." You turn to face him, surprised that he is so close, with his hand on the far side of the back of your chair.

"Yes. I see." You feel heat creep up every inch of you. "Mr. Barba..."

"Rafael." He offers a gentle reminder, so close to your face. He smirks as he watches your eyes flick to his lips over and over.

"Rafael, uh..." You regret breaking the mood with all your heart and you force yourself to stop looking at his mouth. "Before we get started with our paperwork, would it be okay if my daughter came up for just a few minutes. Her grandmother takes her on Wednesdays when her father is out of town. If it will be any trouble I can wait with her in the lobby."

Your eyes go right back to his lips, his face still so close you swear you taste the hazelnut from his coffee. "No, it's no trouble." He says and you force your eyes to stay open, they keep trying to close of their own accord with him this close to your lips. You feel so irritated with how easy you slip to imagining intimacies when you are near him, and how your eyes seem to pick a part of him to focus on while your mind drifts. His eyes, his lips, his neck, his backside, (Carisi had caught you staring at that right after you started and you had yet to hear the end of it), his hands, "Your phone."

"His phone..." You say aloud, then startle, realizing you voiced Barba's words in your train of thought. Heat claims your cheeks once again and you shake your brain back into focus. "Wait, what?"

Rafael smiles, still so close. "Your phone. It's buzzing."

He straightens and moves back to the other chair, having mercy and giving you a blessed reprieve. "Oh. **OH**. _Oh_." You look down at your phone. "She's here. Are you sure it's okay she comes up?"

"Yes, I'm sure. She seems to have had all of her shots." Rafael tries a small joke to ease your discomfort and you let out a small laugh.

"Thank you Mr... Rafael." You catch yourself from calling him Mr. Barba. "I'll be right back."

********************  
In just a few minutes you are back upstairs, Little Miss in tow. Rafael offers a "hello", and your daughter buries her face in your legs.

You peel her hands from you and kneel down and remind her that she had something to tell Mr. Barba. She shakes her head and you give her a gentle reminder. "Sweetheart. It's important to say we are sorry when we hurt someone, even if it's just their feelings, and even if we didn't mean to. You need to go talk to Mr. Barba." You take her hand and walk over to his chair and put your hands on her shoulders. She looks back at you and you nod. "Go ahead."

Rafael feels his heart squeeze when your daughter stares at him with those big scared eyes. Now he is the one who cannot take the silence. "It's fine she doesn't have to..." He begins and your look stops him.

"Hi Misser Barba." Comes out of her in a tiny whisper.

"Hello." Rafael says stiffly, wishing this was over, but understanding you were trying to have a teaching moment. That little face, though, makes him wish you were teaching with someone else.

The Little Miss pulls in a shaky breath and straightens her tiny shoulders. "I'm sorry I spilled on you."

"Good job baby!" You whisper, so proud.

Rafael leans forward to be on her level. He doesn't know where he's learned that, but it feels right. "It's okay, accidents happen." And just like that those full eyes spill over and the tears run free. Rafael looks at you to find your face just as puzzled as his own. His broad hand pats at her tiny back. "What's wrong? What's the matter? Why are you crying?" He looks to you again. "Why is she crying?" Before he knows it her little arms have locked around his neck. He looks panicked. "Is it okay to pick her up? Should I pick her up?" He asks you, and you nod. Before you can even get a word out your Little Miss shrieks out a shrill and emphatic "Yes!" At him.

He settles back in his seat with her, as you take off her Disney Princess backpack and put it on the table and listen to see what has her so upset. "Now what's the matter?" He tries again in a gentler tone.

"I though you were mad at me and don't want to be my friend cause I spilled on you!" She wails in hiccuping sobs. The tears that hit his jacket split his heart into pieces. You go to get the Kleenex from Carmen's desk and get back just in time to see her wipe her red, wet, snotty face with his pocket square, her doing more smearing than clearing.

Rafael cannot stop the shudder that passes through him. That pocket square will be hitting the garbage as soon as you two leave. You mouth the word "sorry" over your daughter's head and he nods and holds up a hand to stop your apology. He grabs his pocket square from the table and does a better job of wiping her face so they can carry on their conversation. "I am not mad, and I would very much like to be you and your mommy's friend, okay chiquita?" She smiles under his endearment of her, and he dabs a final time at her eyes.

"Okay Misser Barba!" She gives him her best hug. "Chiquita meanses 'little one'!" She says proudly.  Such a sweet moment in a place where mostly ugliness happens warms him to his core.

"Call me Rafael." He reminds her. "Friends call one another by their first names." You could not be more grateful to him for the few moments he just took with your daughter to ease her worried heart. "And where did you learn that word? From Sonny? I know he knows some Spanish."

"No!" She laughs at that as if it's the silliest thing she's ever heard. "From Dora!" Your daughter finally climbs down and frees him. "I made you something!" She tells Rafael and grabs her backpack off the table. Rafael looks to you for an answer and you shrug. You are just as clueless as he. She opens her bag and pulls out a mini water bottle stuffed with cotton balls, and decorated with googly eyes, pipe cleaners and construction paper. She shoves it out to him and he looks to you once again and you still shrug.

Rafael smooths his tie. "Thank you." He says earnestly. "Is this Frannie?" He asks as he studies the object in his hands.

"Noooooo!" She giggles. "It's Olaf. I made you one. Cause you can't keep mine."

"Of course it is." Rafael pretends to rub his eyes. "Oh that's much better. Now I see."

"I'll put him with the kids." She snatches it from his hand.

"The kids?" You ask her, wondering what in the world she's up to now. Then you see her place it in the center of the little statue on his desk of the children holding hands in a circle.

"There. Now Olaf can play ring-around-the-rosy too."

You and Rafael both laugh, you cannot help it. "Okay sweetheart, you did a great job with your apology, and I'm so proud of you. So proud. But I think it's time for a quick nap before grammie gets here.

That famous foot of hers stomps the floor. You cross your arms. "On the couch. Twenty minutes. March." She stomps past you and throws herself down on the couch and you cover her with your jacket. "Twenty minutes." You say again firmer. "You don't want to be grouchy for grammie."

You join Rafael back at his table. "Sorry about that. I didn't expect her to get so emotional. Her daily report from preschool said that she had missed her nap, though, so that may well have been a contributing factor."

"I didn't either." Rafael confesses. "I feel bad that she was so upset."

"She's little and still learning to control her emotions, so that happens. Thank you so much for taking the time to let her get that apology out."

Rafael beings to tell you that it was no problem, but that he's glad it's over. He doesn't know how you do it with those tears. Before he can get any words out of his open mouth, "Rafa-yell!" comes in a sharp whisper from the couch, breaking the moment and calling your attention.

"Young lady..." you warn, rising up.

"Shh mommy, I'm sleeping." She says at full volume, and you swallow back your laughter at her eyes pinched so tight, and turn back to the table. "Rafa-yell!" Comes the whisper again, and you go to get up and Rafael stops you with a motion of his hand and goes over to the couch.

"Yes chiquita?"

She beckons him closer and he bends down. "Has it been twenty of the minutes yet?"

He snorts a little laugh. "No, not yet."

"Well how many of the minutes has it been?"

"Two. It's been two of the minutes." He tells her earnestly. "Your mami and I will tell you when it's been twenty minutes." He's alarmed at the ease he's spoken the phrase _your mami and I_ , and that makes him starch his disposition. "Go to sleep okay?"

"Okay. Night night Rafa-yell."

The starch doesn't last against the sticky sweetness of your daughter. He pats the top of her head gently. "Night night chiquita."

************************

In the course of her nap, you and Rafael were able to go over the facts of your testimony, simple as it was, as the fistfight between the father of a victim and the accused broke out right in front of your desk before Carisi and Fin had separated and subdued them both.  Your job was to testify as to who threw the first punch.

As Rafael packs up his files, your phone goes off. "Oh, she's here." You text your exes mother that you will be right down. You wake up your daughter, bleary eyed but finally rested. You put her backpack back on her. "Do you want to walk down with us?"

"No. I mean yes, I would like to, but I've got a lot of work to do, so a long night is ahead of me." He tells you, pulling a candy bar from his desk.

You see your daughter eyeing the sweet on tippy toes. "No way Miss. You know grammie takes you out to eat.

Rafael has to turn to hide his smile at your daughter's head flopping back in a typical "melt" that children do when they don't get their way. "Enough." You tell her as you fight yourself to keep from laughing at the tiny drama queen. "Say goodbye to Mr. Barba."

"Rafael." He corrects you as he stands to walk you to the elevator.

Your daughter hugs his arm before she steps in the elevator. "Adios Rafa-yell."

"Adios chiquita." He says with a smile. More Dora he assumes.

"Bye Rafael, and thank you again, so much." You give him a wave.

"Goodbye. It was no problem. You'll do great on your testimony. I'll see you tomorrow." He stands and watches the elevator door close on you both before returning back to his work, unable to keep the smile from his face at the thought of the interesting turn his life has suddenly taken.

*************************

Half an hour in, Rafael hears another knock on his door. _What could it be now? Is he ever going to finish tonight?_ He looks up and sees your face again in his doorway. "You're back?" He rises and moves to the table, looking. "Did you forget something? I don't see your phone or your keys..."

You take a step into his office. "I... I brought you dinner. You said you had a late night tonight, so I went to the sandwich shop on the corner." You hold your bag out to him.

"You bought me dinner?" He steps closer, but doesn't take the bag.

You nod, starting to feel silly, as he's not taken the brown bag from you. "Here. Their turkey club is really good." Still no move to take the bag, it takes you no time at all to feel stupid. "Look, if you're not hungry, or don't like it, it's not a big deal..."

"No, no. I'm just surprised." He takes the bag and peeks inside at the chips and sandwich. "This is much better than anything I had in here."

You crinkle your own bag in your hands, just looking at one another in silence. "Well, have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow." You give him a tight lipped smile and turn to leave.

"Wait, is that your dinner?" His hand on your elbow stops you from walking out. "Stay and eat with me?"

"Really? I wouldn't be keeping you from your work?"

"Not at all." The lie leaves his lips with such ease, he believes it himself.

"I'd love to! My place is so quiet without my daughter you wouldn't believe it." You move towards the table but the hand that never left your elbow guides you to the couch and he sets down your bags.

"I can imagine. I'll be right back." Rafael calls out over his shoulder as he leaves his office. While he is gone, you get some paper towels from the ladies room and set out your sandwiches and open your chips. Rafael returns with two Cokes from the machine. "This was so nice of you, thank you."

"You're welcome. You were so nice and accommodating to us, I wanted to do a little something for you."

"It was no trouble. Your daughter is really something."

"That she is." You agree with a laugh.

"I have no idea why she likes me so much." He says, even though the pride evident in his voice.

"Are you kidding?" You cannot stop your face from lighting up. "She knows good people Rafael. Kids have a sense for these things." You continue. "You drew with her, you colored with her, engaged her with questions." You feel a sudden tightness of emotion in your throat. "You give her your time Rafael, and you make her feel important." You feel bold and you reach out and cover his hand with yours, and your other hand goes to your heart. "What a gift that is to a child, Rafael. When you find people who invest in you, you don't let them go. She knows that."

Rafael opens his mouth, he has so much he wants to say, he wants to say that he wants to invest in both of you, that he hasn't stopped thinking of you since Saturday, but he loses his nerve and bites into his sandwich instead and you let go of him and finish your sandwich as the silence stretches, you wonder if you've said too much. You bag up the trash without looking at him, ready to leave, feeling more awkward by the second. You stand up and he clears his throat and stands as well.

"Uh, I have tickets to the opera on the 19th at the Met. La Boheme. Would you like to go with me? We could have a nice dinner beforehand, just the two of us. A date I mean."  He cannot keep his nerves out of his voice.

"A date?" You cannot keep the surprise from yours. If he only knew how your heart had prayed for this very moment.

"Yes. I find you quite interesting and I've enjoyed the time we've spent together. I'd like to get to know you better, and see if there might be something between us. If you are interested that is." He takes your hand, hopeful that this could be the start of a journey for the two of you. He had not stopped thinking about the possibilities for what felt like ages, and thinking about how he's laughed more in the past few days than he has in weeks.  When he had tried to talk himself out of asking you on a date, when his doubts told him that a child would complicate things, and that working together would complicate things, Olivia's voice kept reminding him that if he waited for things to be perfect he would be waiting forever.  Even though the logical side of him kept finding reasons not to pursue a relationship, his heart **_would not_ ** listen.  That part of him was already moving, broken from it's ice and searching out a relationship with you, searching **_you_** out.  His heart was teetering right on the edge, and there was no stopping it now.  Nothing left to do but fall.

He looks into your eyes and asks again.  "So, what do you say?  Will you do me the honor of joining me at the opera?"


End file.
